See me Please, please see me Save me
by Marte
Summary: There was another, deeper, reason Blaine decided to transfer. This is from his point of view during the season premiere. You heard the words, but did you understand the looks and the gestures? Read my interpretation.


Did you notice Darren's amazing acting in the season premiere? If you're going by the dialogue, the words may give you the impression that Blaine transferred merely because he couldn't stand not being with the one he love. But if you watch Blaine, you can see that Darren is putting an incredible amount of emotions into every look, every step, every word and every gesture. I don't know if the writer (Brad Falkchuk) or the director (Eric Stoltz) told him to, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that Darren, through this skillful acting, laid down the ground for a possible deeper storyline concerning Blaine's transfer, just like they spent the second season leading up to.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. You know who do. The direct quotes (with quotation marks and in italics) are taken as they are from the episode.

Spoilers through episode 3.01.

This is my take on what went on inside Blaine's head during the first episode of the third season. As you can see I didn't like Kurt that much in his scenes with Blaine, and I hope that Kurt will see through Blaine's protective fence soon. Reviews make my days joyous.

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><p><em>Can't you see it? See me. Please, please see me. Save me...<em>

_-.-_

_«I'm being passive-aggressive. You promised that by the first day of school you'd make a decision. And yet there you sit, cute as ever, but still in your Warblers blazer."_

You look at him, not quite believing what you're hearing. You close your eyes for a second, collecting your thoughts. _Can't you see me? I'm in my Warblers blazer. _That's_ my decision. _You're willing him to see. To probe. To care. To know. But he doesn't. So instead you settle for the lame excuse you've been using all summer.

"_But I just can't bail on the Warblers. Those guys are my friends."_

You are still hoping that he'll catch on. That he'll see the tears that are threatening to spill. That he'll hear the way your voice is thick with emotion and almost breaking. That he'll see that _you_ are almost breaking. But he doesn't.

"_Okay, alright, fine. Fine. Just one final sales pitch and then we can talk about..."_

You give up for now. You've been trying to make him see it all summer. It's too hard for you to say it out loud just like that, so you've been willing him to ask. But he hasn't. He doesn't.

"_Okay"_

"_If you stay at Dalton, you and I are competitors."_

"_That's true."_

"_And I'm just not sure that our budding love can survive that."_

Is he serious? It's almost laughable. Almost. Still, you swallow hard, force the tears to stay where they are on the brim of your eyes, and you play along.

"_Let me get this straight... I have to transfer because you're just afraid that I'm gonna beat you at Sectionals."_

"_No, I'm afraid that I'm gonna beat you."_

"_Ooooooo."_

"_And I know what that does to you when I win."_

You're laughing now. He's so cute. And you really _do_ want to spend every day with him. Transferring would make that reality. But transferring would also mean leaving the safe haven you found at Dalton. If only he would see. If only he would reassure you that you can do it. That you can face your past together.

"_Look, I'm – uhm – honestly I just... I just wanna see you more. I want my senior year to be magic, and the only way that's gonna happen is if I get to spend every minute and every day..."_

I... Me... My... I... Me... My... He's being selfish. Not once has he taken the time to ask you what _you_ want. How _you _feel. You wish he could see past the dapper facade you hide behind. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you love someone; see through their shield? See them. Know them.

He's beautiful. Although you're frustrated that he doesn't see, the fact remains that you love him. And you love your coffee dates that stem back to the very first day you met.

"_...with you." _

You don't doubt that he is being sincere. You take his hand and squeeze it. You sigh. And you decide that you'll give it another thought.

-.-

And you do. You sit down and you write and you think and you talk to your friends about it. In the end it's Jeff and Nick who make you see that this is something you have to do. Not for Kurt. For you. Not because you can't stand the thought of not seeing him every day - although you can't. But because you need to face your past. You need to face those bullies, even if they're not the same ones who beat the living crap out of you two years ago.

-.-

So you get all the paper work done. You hand over your Dalton uniform. And you get ready for your first day at McKinley. You have decided to come during lunch-hour, feeling that half a day is more than enough to begin with. As you sit in your car in the parking lot, you're _this_ close to turning around and leaving. You feel your stomach turning and for a while you have to sit with your head between your legs to keep yourself form throwing up. As you close your eyes you see yourself at your old school. Being laughed at. Being whispered about. Being alone during lunch. Being kept out of the locker room after PE. And you can see the guys coming towards you and your friend as you wait for his dad to pick you up. You can feel every punch. Every kick. You remember waking up in the hospital. And you remember entering Dalton for the first time. Feeling safe for the first time.

To the world you may seem confident. To some you may even seem cocky. But it's easy to be confident when you're comfortable. When you're safe.

The shrill sound of the bell find it's way through your heavy thoughts and you know that you can't turn around. You know that you have to do this. Your sanity depends on it.

As you enter the building you can see Kurt at his locker. You take a deep breath and you start walking. You keep your eyes on your boyfriend, you focus on walking in a straight line, and you're straightening your bow-tie although you know that it is already perfectly straight. You do all this to shut the sights and the sounds of public school out. You're just not ready for that yet. Which doesn't bode well, considering you have already enrolled and are currently walking down the hallway of your new school. You expect someone to do something vicious at any moment, but you keep focusing on your target, reaching the beautiful boy just as he is about to leave.

"_Hey you."_

"_Aren't you a sight for these sore eyes." _

You continue to focus on your boyfriend, doing your very best to shut all other sounds and sights out, forcing the familiar feeling of nausea away. You wait for him to notice your clothing. But he doesn't.

"_Bad day?"_

You want to lean in and kiss him, push him up against that locker, have him tell you that it will all be alright. That you will be fine. That he'll protect you. But he doesn't. Instead he walks away, not asking you what you're doing here, still not noticing that the blazer is missing. But he's still the Kurt you love. So as he's being overly dramatic as he walks away, you smile and follow.

"_Bad week more like it."_

I... Me... My...

And then he finally asks you what you're doing here.

"_Wait, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at Warbler practice, you know, for the fine-tuning touches on a new Katy Perry showstopper...?"_

You're just closing your ears to his dab at the Warblers. If you think about it you are getting annoyed at him for always being sarcastic about the Warblers' performances, so you don't think about it. Instead you take the opportunity to get his attention where it should be; on your clothing.

As you do, you can feel tears forming in your eyes again. This is it. There will be no turning back now. Once you tell Kurt that you're transferring it's a done deal. You can feel your stomach turning again at the thought. Slowly but surely the sights and sounds around you are fighting their way through your carefully put up shield.

"_Okay, for someone who loves clothes so much, I can't believe you haven't noticed that I'm not in my – my Warblers outfit."_

You can hear your own voice breaking on that last syllable. You could barely get the word out. Surely he must have heard that? And be wondering that that was all about? _Hear me. Please, please hear me. See me. Understand me._ But he doesn't.

"_Wait, wait..."_

As he's beginning to grasp what you're saying, you find yourself once again willing him to see. To _really_ see. To see that you are scared to death about coming back. You're giving him an overly staged smile. Surely he should see through that? Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Surely he should see them? But he doesn't.

What he does do is leap at you and hug you like there's no tomorrow. And in that moment everything is alright; you feel protected and you feel safe. You feel loved. And you feel that maybe this would turn out just fine.

The moment doesn't last. He pushes himself off of you and starts frantically ranting, making sure that you didn't do this for him.

"_Wait, wait, wha... You didn't do this for me, did you? Because if y-you did this for me, - I mean it would be very romantic for one, but..._

I... Me... My...

This is the closest your tears have come to spilling yet, and you actually marvel at how they can possible still not have made their way down your cheeks. You press your lips together in something that somewhat resembles a smile, but shouldn't actually fool anyone and you shake your head. Even now, when he is close to making sure that this was something you wanted to do, he did it in such a way that was sure to give him the answer he was looking for.

"_...but I mean it could lead to resentment, which could lead to anger, which could lead to a horrible, horrible and nasty breakup, like you know..."_

Even if that had happened to be the case, after that rant, no one would - no one _could_ say "Yeah, I did it for you. I came for you, because you went on and on and on about it to the point where I couldn't take it anymore..." As it was, you _didn't_ do it for Kurt though. You did it for you, and you had to let him know that.

"_Hey, hey, hey – hey – hey... I came here for me. Because..."_

Here you close your eyes, wondering for that split-second if you should be completely honest with him. But you can't seem to find the strength to do it, so you take the easy way out.

"_...I can't stand to be apart from the person I love."_

How could he not see through you? While true enough, that being apart from him was heartbreaking, that shouldn't be a good enough reason to switch schools. _Please, Kurt, please, I'm begging you, understand. See. Hear. Feel. It's all here, right in front of you, all you have to do is take one small step out of your own little world, and see me..._ But he doesn't. He buys it.

-.-

_Can't you see it? See me. Please, please see me. Save me..._

-.-

"_Well, I guess we just have to find a way to ease you into the New Directions now, huh..."_

"_I already have that figured out."_

And you do. Once the music begins playing and you're opening your mouth to sing, you're in a different world. You've always been like this. The sounds and sights of public school that had managed to fight their way through to your mind, making you tremble, are fading away again. You sing and you dance and you shut everything else out. This is your turf. This is what you do.

It's later, when Mr. Shuester is leading you into the choir room that reality hits again. What are you doing here? You keep your hands in your pockets to hide the fact that they're shaking. This is it. You're freaking out. But as Mr. Shuester presents you to the glee-club, you do your best to pull yourself together.

"_Thank you so much everyone. I'm so thrilled to be here. It's gonna be a great year, I can feel it. We're all gonna go to Nationals."_

You cringe at the sound of your own voice. You look at Kurt, thinking that this time – this time he _must _have noticed that you were on the verge of breaking. But he doesn't bat an eyelash.

_Can't you see it? See me. Please, please see me. Save me..._

You keep your pretend-you're-happy-fake-smile plastered to your face, and as Finn makes his point, to which you have to ask for clarification, you find your way up to the back-row, and sit down next to your boyfriend. You should feel at home in this group; you've hung with them a lot and you have similar interests. So why do you feel like an outsider? Why is this terrifying sense of anxiety creeping in on you? _Music. _Focus on the music, you tell yourself. So when Rachel suggests that you do West Side Story, your nerves calm down. Now you're alright. You love West Side Story. And then Kurt announces his candidacy for Senior Class President, and you can't help but feeling incredibly proud of your boyfriend.

However, when Tina starts talking about what they did to you all, the fear is creeping back in. It's spreading through you like wildfire. You can feel your stomach turning again and the feeling of nausea is all-consuming. What have you done? You wish your boyfriend would sense your discomfort and take your hand, running his thumb over it in a reassuring way, letting you know that he knows. But he doesn't.

_Can't you see it? See me. Please, please see me. Save me..._

You end the day with a song, and you feel happy. There is something sweet about getting to dance around not thinking about the strict step and sway choreography of the Warblers. Hey, you even get to do a cartwheel.

But as you lie in bed that night you can't stop the fear from eating at you as you realize that tomorrow you have a _full_ day of _public _school. You grab your phone and let your finger hover near speed dial. You're contemplating calling him. Contemplating telling him that you are scared shitless and that you need him. But you don't. You just lie there praying for him to see through your carefully built shield. To probe. To care. To know. To call. But he doesn't. And then – _then_ you feel the tears making their way down your face.

_Can't you see it? See me. Please, please see me. Save me..._

_-.-_


End file.
